Securing the Closer Role
Spring camp was already halfway through. Countless minor leaguers refused to stop sweating for a better tomorrow amid the harsh conditions. The barren world of the minors. And an environment utterly unlike their amateur days. Up through Single-A, players could dream of reaching the majors in short order, their amateur skills still holding value. Get accustomed, and putting up numbers wasn't so hard. The real shift in caliber came at Double-A. Even in spring camp, call-ups and demotions continued unabated. It wasn't rare to see someone post strong exhibition stats and move up to a higher-level camp. Keep it up, and you might start the season there.
Thwack! A sharp smack echoed as the ball buried into the mitt. The opposing batter, lost in thoughts of what pitch might come where, missed his timing against Roy Yoo's faster tempo—quicker than most pitchers.
“Strike three, out!”
The umpire called it, ending the inning. Roy wiped the sweat trickling down his jaw and descended the mound. Tyrone Wed approached.
“Whoa, clean as always.”
Wyndham, the manager, had tasked Roy with every role imaginable: starter, long relief, short relief, closer. Even one-point duty. Roy had taken the mound in all sorts of spots and situations. Right now, it was a one-point stint. Whether he'd pitch the next inning too was up to the manager's discretion.
Despite the erratic schedule with no fixed role, Roy showed no disruption, just steadily climbed the mound and threw. Wyndham was baffled by it.
“You're a real oddball, you know that?”
“What about?”
The minor league spring camp dorms were nothing special. Two to a room, and Roy and Tyrone were roommates. No downside to a pitcher and catcher getting tight. Both knew it. Tyrone was sociable by nature, and Roy—cool exterior aside—was a late-20s mind in a minor leaguer's body. They clicked easily.
“Most pitchers struggle without a set role, bouncing around like that. But you? Not a hint of it.”
Tyrone sounded genuinely curious. As he said, even just a runner on base could rattle a pitcher. A speedster out there meant quick-pitch motions for pickoffs, no full windup. Plenty of guys imploding after a perfect start stemmed from that rhythm shift cracking their balance.
Roles were far more complex. Even grizzled pros saw their command waver with role-hopping, stats yo-yoing. Yet Roy, despite short stints across the board, stayed steady no matter when or where he pitched.
That was why Wyndham was flustered. He'd tested Roy in every scenario to find the best fit, but Roy aced them all.
“Guess I'm just versatile like that.”
Roy grinned, answering Tyrone's wonder.
“Our prospect's doing great.”
In the monitor room at spring camp, Michael chuckled at footage from the minors camp. Leaning back comfortably, he watched Roy Yoo.
Playing an interesting game.
Michael smirked silently at the screen. He was the man who'd turn small-market Oakland into a dynasty before long. And Roy struck him as a fascinating pitcher.
The magic of two seconds.
At a glance, Roy seemed like a cocky rookie firing blindly on raw stuff. But Michael knew better. His tempo was two seconds faster than average. Sure, the quicker delivery threw off batters' timing, but the real value shone against offspeed recognition.
Single-A hitters handled fastballs fine, comparable to Double-A. But breaking stuff? Different story. Roy's lone changeup, the splitter, wasn't elite in polish. Not by majors standards. To Single-A bats, though, it was plenty nasty.
Splitter or not? Which way? By the time they pondered, Roy had already thrown. Elite changeup hunters wouldn't bite, but Single-A guys lacked that yet.
Of course, flaws existed. It weakened against blind hacks—sudden long balls happened.
Still, those two seconds more than make up for it.
Michael steepled his fingers behind his head, eyes narrowing.
Just coincidence?
Probably. On the surface, it screamed trust my stuff—hit it if you can. But Michael saw deeper.
A guy who gave up a million bucks for nicer minor league digs.
No ordinary thinker.
Feels like he's optimized himself for Single-A.
Michael chuckled at the thought. Maybe just fancy, but Roy was undeniably unique.
In the spring camp ballpark manager's office, Wyndham looked up at a knock.
“Come in.”
It was Roy Yoo.
“You wanted to see me.”
“Yeah, have a seat.”
Wyndham gestured to the chair by his desk, lifting the coffeepot from the corner.
“Want some?”
“I'm good.”
Roy declined flatly. Wyndham poured into a paper cup and sat.
Spring camp was past halfway now. The next season's shape was emerging.
“So, how's the team? Settling in? Eh, no need to ask.”
This camp had been Roy's proving ground. Flop, and it'd be instructional leagues. But he'd posted solid exhibition numbers: 19 innings, 7 earned runs. ERA 3.31. 21 strikeouts. WHIP 1.1.
Not dominant, but excellent for a pro rookie. Factor in the role chaos, and a fixed spot could yield even better.
Roy had passed with flying colors.
“I called you about your role. You've bounced around without a set one, right?”
Wyndham rested his chin on steepled hands, serious.
“Testing where you'd shine best. But you were steady everywhere. Honestly, I can't decide.”
He scratched his thinning hair. Roy spoke.
“Where do you think I'd fit best?”
“...”
A roundabout way of saying he didn't mind. Wyndham paused.
Young guys like Roy craved starts. But Wyndham didn't see him as a starter yet.
Two pitches. Too burdensome for long outings.
You needed three minimum for stable long hauls. Two-pitch starters existed, but Beloit's rotation was full.
After a beat, Wyndham spoke.
“Personally? Closer.”
Top-tier stuff among team arms. Rock-solid mentality in any role. Solid K's. All closer traits.
“Of course, if you want elsewhere...”
Roy mused inwardly.
Closer, huh.
He did crave starts, as predicted. But knew the rotation glut.
Didn't expect closer, though.
Among bullpen roles, closer was elite. After a thoughtful silence, Roy frowned.
“Don't we already have one?”
Beloit's entrenched closer from last year.
“Chambers? Don't worry—he's heading to Double-A.”
That vacated the spot.
“Not bad.”
Roy smiled faintly. It fit him perfectly now.
Wyndham grinned at the buy-in.
“Good, Roy. You're our closer this season.”
And so Roy Yoo claimed Beloit's closer role.